A/N: Just to warn you that when we get to the Hallowe'en Ball, there's LOTS of links. I suggest you click on them. I'm a HUGE fan of the Leg Avenue Costume line, especially the 2006 collection they've recently come out with. I already own a few of their items but the costume I've selected for Hermione is my absolute favourite. I just bought it two weeks ago; I'm rather impatient for Hallowe'en to get here. :D I did try to describe hers and Harry's costumes in detail but the pictures do it so much easier. And the hat for Harry-pretend it's not on a woman in the picture. Please? It's a unisex hat, but there's only a picture of it on a woman.
EDIT: I realized after posting this chapter that I had written Crabbe and Goyle in not only this chapter, but the previous chapter as well. And I'd killed them in chapter 10. :/ SO. I went back and edited, and Crabbe and Goyle in chapters 29 and 30 are now Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Please forgive my oversight.. my fingers were moving faster than my brain was.
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Disclaimer:
"I like being Superman, can I please just stay like this for one more chapter?" begs Lang-Superman as he puffs out his chest.
"No. And since I nearly forgot to post this disclaimer, you're not getting off easily."
Crystal flicks her wand a few times, and Lang begins to shrink. Moments later he is orange, with green hair, and white overalls over a green shirt.
"You're kidding. I'm a bloody Oompa-Loompa?!"
"Do the disclaimer. Or else."
Lang The Oompa-Loompa sighs, and begins to dance and sing. (This is the part where YOU, the reader, starts humming the Oompa Loompa song from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory - THE OLD VERSION!)
"Oompa loompa, loompa-dee-maim, if you are greedy, you will claim/that you don't know who JKR is/and it is you the lawyers will blame. Oompa loompa loompa-dee-dee, from writing this story Crystal makes no money."
"Thanks, Will."
"I hate you."
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It surprised the Trio how quickly first term passed. Though their seventh year classes were extremely difficult and the homework was more demanding than any year previous, they managed to escape at the Christmas break positively unscathed. Ron cheerfully proclaimed that this was entirely due to their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dr. Lang, as his just (or unjust, depending on which house you were in) treatment of the Slytherins made up for every other nastily exhausting class they sat through.
True to the form of one Severus Snape, Dr. Lang's dislike of Slytherin house extended beyond the classroom and spilled into the hallways and dormitories of Hogwarts. He could often be found prowling the halls late at night much like Filch, the ever-popular caretaker, randomly snapping open broom closet doors and roaring in delight at the students he would find. If the compromised teenagers happened to be from any house other than Slytherin they were let off with a light warning and the door slammed shut once more.
However, if the explicitly behaving students were donned in robes with a Slytherin crest on them, they were promptly marched directly to Argus Filch, where he gleefully doled out punishments as he woefully reminisced of the days when his predecessor, Apollyon Pringle, was allowed to exert physical retribution in place of detentions and cleaning tasks done the Muggle way.
Needless to say, the Slytherin students of Hogwarts began to keep their extracurricular activities confined within their own dormitories. Hermione had learned from her Arithmancy partner, Daphne Greengrass, that the Slytherin dorms had no trick staircase like Gryffindor did. She supposed that this was because the Hogwarts founders (minus Salazar, of course) realized that one Slytherin was as untrustworthy as the next, regardless of gender, and that there was little purpose in attempting to prevent access to either side of the dorm.
September had gone by in a blur, with the only memorable occurrence being Hermione's eighteenth birthday. She was now of age in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds and they celebrated in an appropriate fashion. Ron, Harry, Neville, Luna, and Ginny (as it would have been more difficult not to invite her than simply allowing her to come) had surprised her in the Heads common room with cake, ice cream, presents, and plenty of alcohol pilfered from Madam Rosmerta by Ron on a discrete trip to Hogsmeade.
Ginny had toned the attitude down several notches after her duel with Hermione, but she could still be found muttering about the brunette witch as she wandered aimlessly about Gryffindor tower. There had been no further matches between the pair, but Hermione was sure that there was something bubbling beneath the surface of her cool exterior.
Luna was an entirely different story altogether. She had taken to spending every spare moment she could with Ron, and though it had greatly annoyed him at first, she'd begun to grow on him towards the beginning of October. He soon forgot all about both Gabrielle and Fleur Delacour (Delacour-Weasley, now, actually) as an entirely different blonde captivated his attention. He nervously asked her to accompany him to the Hallowe'en Ball when Headmistress McGonagall had announced it on October 1, and she had accepted with a casual air that made him think she'd expected it all along.
The Hallowe'en Ball was the talk of Hogwarts days after its announcement, and every witch third year and up was scrambling to find the perfect costume to wear. Each wizard who was attending nervously contemplated his wardrobe choices, and some took far too much pleasure in the idea of a costume ball. Harry had approached the idea cautiously, as he could tell Hermione was greatly excited, and he didn't want to wear a costume that would not go with hers.
McGonagall had announced that each and every student in attendance for the Hallowe'en Ball was to wear a costume, but that the girls would be arriving separately from the boys, and they would have to pair up with their dates upon their arrival at the Great Hall. Harry was convinced this was another one of those bright ideas conceived to torture every male in the vicinity, when Hermione explained to him that the idea was to get your date to wear a costume matching yours, and then finding them would be that much simpler.
The catch, however, was that you could not simply ask your date what they were wearing, or sit down and discuss it. It all had to be done in secret.
Needless to say, Harry and Ron were rather confused by this idea. Luna and Hermione had explained to them a great number of times that it was all part of the fun, but neither wizard could understand how that was supposed to be `fun'. They were being forced to dress up in prissy costumes that matched their dates, but they couldn't just ask their dates what to wear! No, they had to be all sneaky and covert about discovering what the ladies would be wearing.
The boys in Gryffindor tower were beginning to think the Hallowe'en Ball wasn't such a lovely idea after all.
That changed the second they stepped into the Great Hall on the evening of October 31.
Neville and Ron had complained at great lengths upon their entry at seeing several groups of people dressed alike. There were five girls from Hufflepuff dressed as cartoon characters from some anime television show Hermione had tried to explain called Sailor something-or-other. Ron wasn't really paying attention; he was too busy arguing that it wasn't fair while silently appreciating the short skirts the girls were wearing.
There were also three wizards from Ravenclaw who were dressed as the infamous Muggles, the Three Musketeers. They wore cloaks of navy and bronze with swords at their sides, and oversized hats complete with ostentatious plumage.
Neville really liked the hats.
Perhaps the best group costume choice was that of Slytherin house, which had any male or female who had an inkling of what the numbers `007' meant laughing rather uproariously at the sight.
Standing in a rather awkward group at the centre of the Hall were Mssrs. Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott. And each one of them was wearing dress robes that were as close to a Muggle tuxedo as one could get. They would randomly pretend to talk into their timepieces or as though they were receiving instructions through an earpiece, and Draco went so far as to fiddle around with a transfigured handgun as he drew it from a shoulder holster.
Unfortunately for Zabini and Nott, Malfoy was the only one who looked somewhat respectable in his getup, and that was mainly because of his physique and cocky attitude. His hair colour detracted from the illusion, as a blonde James Bond was simply laughable.
Harry took the opportunity after Malfoy and his cronies had shuffled off into a quiet corner to question Ron about his choice of attire.
"You look like Dumbledore," he said, torn between chuckling at the image and reminiscing at the representation of the former Headmaster.
"I'm supposed to be Merlin, Harry," said Ron in an impatient tone. "It's all Luna's fault."
"How so?"
Ron sighed, twiddling his waist-length grey beard between his fingers. "Ginny told me she was coming as Morgana. I figured coming as Merlin would make sense."
Harry shrugged. "Dunno if the beard suits you, mate."
Ron snorted, eyeing Harry's own costume. "And you think your outfit does?"
Decked out in a scarlet frock coat with gold trim and a matching black hat, Harry did feel rather ridiculous. "At least I know mine matches." His black leather boots were more comfortable than he was willing to admit and his breeches were a bit tight for his liking, but he figured the overall appearance was rather dashing. When Harry had looked at himself in the mirror, he felt like Captain Hook from Peter Pan. He'd been able to sneak glances at the Disney cartoon between clearing the table and washing the dishes one night at the Dursleys, and the image of the pirate villain had stuck with him.
"Oh yeah, how do you know?" retorted Ron.
Harry smiled, and caught a glimpse of Dr. Lang passing by in his peripheral vision. "Helps when you live in the same suite as your girlfriend. And she leaves her bedroom door unlocked when she goes off to the Prefect's Bathroom." He did his best not to chuckle at the DADA professor, as he was dressed as the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz.
Ron seemed to have lost all interest in what Harry was saying, though, as he'd just spotted Luna across the crowd. She glided towards them in an ethereal manner, smiling all the while. She was wearing a square-necked midnight blue dress with bell sleeves that appeared to be made of velvet, and there was a silver circlet upon her head. Harry had no clue what Morgana was supposed to have looked like, but he supposed it really wouldn't have mattered as Luna could have worn a flour sack, claimed to be dressed as Morgana, and he would have believed her.
"Hello, Ronald," she said with a smile, reaching up to kiss his cheek.
Ron grinned rather stupidly. "Hi Luna," he said, blinking.
"Oh, look, there's Hermione," replied the blonde in a dreamy voice as she took Ron's hand. "Come along, Ronald. Let's go check the pumpkins for Grekkins before they infest someone's earwax."
"Umm, right." Said Ron, waving dazedly at Harry as Luna tugged him off in the opposite direction.
Harry turned in the direction he'd seen Luna gazing in, and forgot to breathe for a moment.
Hermione was standing not twenty feet away, and her costume looked far better on her than it had hanging in her closet. The periwinkle dress robes she'd worn in fourth year may have made her look beautiful, but this outfit was doing much more than that. Harry already knew she was beautiful. But in this-and in public no less!-she was downright sexy. Shaggable, even.
She was wearing a hat that outdid not only Harry's, but also the Ravenclaw Musketeers all put together. It was black velvet trimmed in lace and red satin ribbon, with an ebony ostrich feather peeking out from the headband. Her dress was ruby red and hung off her shoulders, with puffed out sleeves and a hemline that hit several inches above her knees. There was also a black velvet overdress that had two corset lacings across the front, and it came just below her breasts. Harry could also see black lace peeking out from the hem of the red dress, and he supposed she was wearing a petticoat of some sort underneath it.
Knee-high stiletto boots in black leather completed the look of Hermione's pirate costume, and Harry was ready to admit that he'd died and gone to heaven. It was so unlike Hermione to wear something so short and sexy in front of the rest of the student body, but he wasn't about to complain or question her motives. After all, in an outfit like that, he'd have to be crazy to question anything.
They danced while Harry did his best not to ogle Hermione, and soon the time for costume awards was announced. Harry seemed to have forgotten this little detail-as the Head students both Harry and Hermione had been privy to all aspects of the ball, but of course Harry hardly paid attention-and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy and his replacement goons being called to the stage. The Cowardly Lion that was their Defense professor was standing nearby snickering as the Slytherin trio made their way up the steps to centre stage. As they were about to accept their award for the best-dressed group for their James Bond costumes, the entire Great Hall burst into laughter.
At first Zabini and Nott were too busy joining in the laughter as they watched Malfoy staring at himself in horror, wondering why his black dress robes had suddenly turned into blue silk. It took a few moments to dawn on them that they, too, were not wearing their original dress robes, and the three horrified Slytherins began to push their way through the crowd in a desperate attempt to escape the laughter.
"Hold it right there!" yelled Dr. Lang, silently Immobilizing them mid-flight. "I do believe that we need to re-write what's on that award, now, don't we? Doesn't it say for Misters Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott as James Bond, 007?"
He plucked the award from Nott's skinny hands and quickly read it over.
"Hmm, indeed it does. I think I'll change that." With a quick flick of his wand Dr. Lang changed the writing on the trophy and handed it back to Nott.
The Hall was silent, but clearly the students (as well as the majority of the faculty) were holding in their snickers and catcalls.
"Students and faculty, I'd like to introduce to you the winners of the Best-Dressed Group award: Draco Malfoy as Cinderella, Blaise Zabini as Alice in Wonderland, and Theodore Nott as Little Red Riding Hood. The Heroines of Fairy Tales!" proclaimed Dr. Lang as he flung out his arms as though he were Vanna White displaying the solved puzzle.
Not a single person in the Great Hall could contain their laughter, and soon Dr. Lang graciously lifted the charm and allowed the Slytherins to run from the Great Hall, truly embarrassed.
Harry and Hermione were awarded Best Dressed Couple, and Hermione would swear that she saw a few girls nearly swoon at Harry's appearance out of the corner of her eye. Ron and Luna were the Most Unique, as Ron's interpretation of Merlin and Luna's of Morgana was definitely original.
The night had ended on a high note, which was why Ron still held it in high regard as one of the best nights of term. How could it get any better? The prettiest ladies of Hogwarts dressed in attractive costumes, and the Slytherin gits going from 007-wannabes to fairytale heroines in women's costumes? And the huge buffet of food? Yeah, Ron definitely enjoyed the night.
Harry, on the other hand, and decided it was the best Hallowe'en he'd yet experienced. Though it was the anniversary of his parents' death, the sight of Hermione in her pirate costume and Dr. Lang's treatment of the Slytherins brightened the day more than he could have hoped for. He enjoyed Hermione's costume so much, in fact, that he proceeded to cart her off immediately following the dance to their suite, instructed Ogden not to let anyone in, and showed her just how much he appreciated the outfit.
As they entered their suite, Hermione turned to face Harry and kissed him soundly on the lips. She proceeded to slowly unbutton his pirate captain's frock coat, and swept his hat off of his head to kiss him better. The first time the brim of her hat had crashed with his, and she had figured it would be easier the second time around if she took his hat off. After all, judging by the hungry look in Harry's eyes, he would want her to leave the entire thing on anyway.
Harry proved her right three minutes later as they tumbled onto his bed, as she made a move to tug off the straps of the black velvet overdress and slip off her boots.
"Leave it," he growled, pinning her wrists to the mattress as he fiercely bit into the skin of her neck.
Hermione was beginning to suspect that Harry had a penchant for costumes and fancy lingerie, and she was glad for it. Though Hermione was typically a studious girl who preferred books to the silliness that Lavender and Parvati attempted to include her in, there was still a little girl inside of her who loved to dress up in pretty outfits. That these outfits would be a touch more racy and inspire such a fierce desire in her boyfriend was an added bonus.
She moaned in response to his bite, silently wishing that he would just allow her to remove the black overdress. The red dress underneath would still be alluring enough, but with a freer range of movement. When Harry dipped his tongue to the rarely touched spot just behind her earlobe and his teeth grazed her skin, Hermione lost all concentration and nearly forgot that she was wearing anything at all.
Moments later, as Harry's head moved further south, Hermione began to understand just why he had wanted her to leave the pirate outfit on. Seeing his head disappear below the scarlet hem and black lacy petticoat, in combination with the sensations his tongue was instilling in her, was one of the most erotic things she had ever seen.
His desire was further intensified when they switched places, with Harry on the receiving end. He was standing with the edge of the mattress at the backs of his knees, just in case his balance should fail him, and Hermione was kneeling before him. Harry was surprised that she had initiated this particular position, as he would have assumed she'd consider it subservient, but little did he know that Hermione had come to the realization that it didn't matter what position she was in, so long as she had ample access to take him into her mouth. Regardless of whether she was on her knees in front of him, hovering over him as he lay on his back, or with him straddling her shoulders as he rose above her, she was in the position of power. Only she could make Harry feel the way she did as her tongue swirled about his sensitive head and her fingers caressed him. And with her kneeling in front of him, the brim of her lace-trimmed hat obscured the view of precisely what she was doing to him. He could see, but he couldn't see everything. Something like leaving a little bit to the imagination.
Years down the road, Harry would blame that seventh year Hallowe'en Ball for unlocking the gates to all of the pent-up sexual ideas and fantasies he didn't even realize he'd been harbouring. All because of that ball. And that unbelievably sexy pirate costume.
November had been chock full of duelling matches in Defense, and true to Dr. Lang's word, the hospital wing was soon bedecked in silver and green. For every duelling class they had, at least two Slytherins paid a visit to Madame Pomfrey. If their Gryffindor opponent was a former member of the DA, that visit turned into a weeklong stay. The Healer was not impressed at having to baby-sit the Slytherins, but she at least acquiesced to the fact that, without Dr. Lang present to heal minor injuries and the like in the classroom, she would have had every seventh year Slytherin in Defense residing within her hospital wing. Only serious injuries were sent to Madame Pomfrey, and for that she was grateful. If she had to deal with Malfoy moaning about a minor gash on his arm like he had in his third year, she would've likely hexed the lot of them rather than healed them.
The elusive reason as to why an encounter with Ginny had sent Dean and Seamus willingly to their beds before nine o'clock a month earlier finally came to realization partway through the month. From what Harry was able to gather (As Hermione hadn't been so forthcoming with the details despite agreeing to inform Harry), they had come across Ginny in a rather compromising situation in the lower corridors of Hogwarts. Well, as far as Ron was concerned, compromising was a nice way of putting it. He had shouted so loud Harry was sure the Giant Squid could hear him, using many choice phrases such as `scarlet woman' and `trollop' to mention the less lewd ones.
Poor Dean and Seamus, not realizing the severity of the situation and just how much of a force Ginny was to be reckoned with, had immediately run off to tell Ron. She had gone after them and they had been on the business end of a very angry Ginny's wand.
Harry was fairly sure that he would have spluttered like a fish out of water had he been in Seamus and Dean's position. After all, despite Hermione's casual mentions, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ginny entwined in the man's arms. Not that he was jealous, but it was the identity of the other man that bothered him the most. Whatever Ginny saw in Draco Malfoy was entirely a mystery to him, and though he'd made his peace with the whole issue in London, he still didn't entirely trust the ferret.
Ron was more than prepared to fire off a furious letter to Molly Weasley, informing her of her daughter's behaviour, and was partway through writing it when Ginny stormed into the common room, stole the parchment from him, and tore it in two.
"What are you doing?" she demanded furiously.
"Telling mum that you were-you were-with Malfoy!" spluttered Ron as his fist clenched around his quill.
Ginny's eyes blazed. "What does it matter who I'm with?"
"It's Malfoy!" declared Ron indignantly.
"So?"
"He's a Slytherin! And-and he nearly killed Hermione! And he was going to kill Dumbledore!"
Ginny sighed heavily, fixing her brother with a sad stare. "People change, Ron. I would've thought that you, of all people, could understand that. Merlin knows you've done quite a bit of changing yourself, lately. So have I. Have you noticed neither of us is pitching a fit over Harry and Hermione being together anymore? You've gotten past it, Ron, and so have I. Luna helped you see that Hermione wasn't the one for you, and Draco's helped me realize that I was wrong. I wanted Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived. Not just Harry. And that's not who he is. Yes, he is the Boy Who Lived, but it's not who he wants to be. He chooses to be just Harry, and that's not who I'd fallen for. But Draco… I know exactly where I stand with him. And he makes me happy, Ron."
Ron looked thoroughly bewildered. "But its Malfoy…" he repeated half-heartedly.
"I'm happy, Ron. For the first time since I can remember I'm not arse over teakettle for Harry, and I've found someone who I want to be with for who they truly are. Can't you just be happy for me?" asked Ginny, joining Ron on the sofa and spreading her arms wide for a hug.
He continued to look confused for a few more moments, but slowly his face changed into a reluctant smile. He wrapped his arms around his little sister and held her tightly. "Well I'll admit I'd rather it be just about anyone but Malfoy, if he makes you happy, I'll have to learn to deal with it. But I swear, Gin, one toe out of line and I'll hex him so fast he'll be begging for the day Crouch Jr. turned him into a ferret."
Ginny laughed as she inwardly admired her brother. He had matured quite a bit since they had both realized that they would not be getting their one big happy Weasley family, and she was proud of him. Even Hermione would have to agree that he'd far surpassed her previous evaluation of his emotional range being at the level of a teaspoon. He agreed to let Ginny break the news to their parents herself, and kept his indignation over the situation quiet until he had an opportunity to share with Harry.
That had not gone so well. Harry had mainly voiced his concern for Ginny's change of heart. Throughout the last few weeks her animosity towards Hermione had diminished greatly, and he was concerned for her in a brotherly manner. He was happy that Ginny was moving on, and would no longer be at odds with his girlfriend, but it was disconcerting to know that it was Malfoy she'd now set her sights on. Though it seemed that everyone but Ron had chosen to ignore Malfoy's previous atrocities, Harry was still not entirely comfortable knowing that Ginny was snuggling up to Malfoy every night.
Ron had ranted and raved to a point where Harry cast a Silencing charm on him. Ron was absolutely livid, and though he'd stand by his promise to his sister not to tattle to their mum, that didn't mean he wasn't still allowed to be angry about it. He continued to declare Malfoy to be unworthy of Ginny (which Harry completely agreed with), and swore up one side of Gryffindor Tower and down the other that he'd permanently turn him into a ferret should he harm Ginny.
Hermione had come into the common room partway through Ron's tirade, just seconds before Harry had cast the Silencing charm. She told Ron that he would have to accept Draco as Ginny's boyfriend, or risk losing Ginny. He voluntarily shut his mouth after that, and settled in for a few hours of gloomily staring into the fireplace.
December had been a relatively light month for class work, as the impending Christmas holiday had everyone at Hogwarts, including the faculty, in a festive mood. Of course light class work in seventh year meant it felt like their O.W.L. year all over again rather than N.E.W.T., but even so, they'd become accustomed to the heavier workload, and having a bit of a breather was nice. There had been several end-of-term tests and surprise quizzes to keep the students on their toes despite the impending Yule, and naturally Hermione aced them all. She even outscored McGonagall's previous record on a Transfiguration test by earning herself one hundred and twenty-six percent on a surprise in-class transfiguration quiz, with her exceptional mark being awarded for not only transfiguring Harry and Ron into each other, but for managing to transfigure herself into a fair replica of Professor Sinistra as well. As human transfiguration was rather difficult, it was impossible for McGonagall not to award her any bonus points.
Ginny had continued her relationship with Draco Malfoy, much to the surprise of Gryffindor House. The Slytherins had a few choice comments about her family, but a quick comment from Malfoy put them back in their places. As her blood was purer than most of Slytherin, Ginny was above them in their eyes. The majority of the snide remarks came from Pansy Parkinson's lot, who couldn't seem to fathom why Draco would have chosen a blood traitor over a pure-blooded, one-hundred-percent Slytherin. Rather than dignify their comments with a response, Draco instead wrapped one arm around Ginny's waist, drew her close, and snogged her senseless in the middle of the Great Hall during lunch.
Ron's jaw hit the floor. And not a single Hogwarts student challenged them after that.
When the student body of Hogwarts was doing some last-minute packing to catch the Express back to King's Cross, the Gryffindor trio was holed up in the Restricted section of the library. Once they had long-ago determined precisely what a Horcrux was, the rest of the information came fairly easier. Knowing what you were looking for certainly did help. They spent hours upon hours of their Christmas break poring through various tomes, sparing no effort to determine what artefacts of the Hogwarts founders could possibly be a Horcrux. After all, it seemed to fit the pattern. Nagini may have been a snake and therefore representing Slytherin, but she did not actually belong to Slytherin. The locket belonged to Slytherin, the shield belonged to Gryffindor, and the cup belonged to Hufflepuff. The diary had belonged to Riddle himself, and the ring had belonged to his pureblood ancestors. Each and every item belonged to either a Hogwarts founder, or a member of the Riddle family. And each object was inanimate. Nagini just didn't fit the puzzle, and Hermione was now convinced that the remaining item had belonged to Ravenclaw. She was the only Hogwarts founder not accounted for, and it was the only thing that made sense.
The only pause in their research came on Christmas day, when Hermione woke her boys at precisely six in the morning with a loud shriek coming from the common room of the Heads suite. Ron had taken Harry's room, and Harry had slept in Hermione's bed for Christmas Eve night, which led to both of them being entirely confused and not being able to confer on all the scenarios that could lead to her uncharacteristic yell at such an ungodly hour. Both Harry and Ron had stumbled sleepily into the room, neither one could help but grin at the sight that greeted their half-open eyes.
Surrounded on every side by brightly wrapped Christmas packages and framed in the fairy lights of the Christmas tree, Hermione was joyfully trying to capture a snowflake on her tongue. In the middle of the Common Room.
Harry had set a time-delayed charm the night prior, designed to replicate a natural snowfall around the tree. It was quite a similar spell as to the one that enchants the ceiling of the Great Hall, but with a few modifications. Hermione looked like a Christmas angel in pale blue satin pyjamas, with the snowflakes catching in her hair and her eyelashes.
The morning was perfect. The Trio opened gifts, shared warm embraces and hot cocoa, and lazed in front of the fire until Ron's stomach growled loudly, announcing that it was time for breakfast. As he slipped through the portrait hole to head back to his room and change his clothes, he missed the look of anticipation in his best mate's eyes.
"We're not done yet, Hermione," said Harry mysteriously, standing from his place on the sofa and taking her hand in his. He drew her up to her feet and against his chest, cradling there for a few moments. "Ron's great and all, but I'd like to spend some of my Christmas morning alone with you."
"I couldn't ask for a better present," whispered Hermione, tilting her head up until their lips met.
Moments later Harry broke the kiss. "Come on, I want to show you something." He grabbed her hand tightly and dragged her into his room.
"Harry! I'm not a machine, we need to eat breakfast first!" giggled Hermione as she followed on his heels. Her laughter died in her throat as she saw what was waiting for her.
Hovering perhaps two feet above Harry's bed was a pale silver bubble. It reminded her of the pink bubble that Glinda the Good Witch used to travel in The Wizard of Oz. This silver bubble was much smaller; nearly the size of a Bludger, and its translucent surface shimmered in the light.
"What is it?" she breathed, stretching her fingers out towards it.
"All that stuff out there, that wasn't all of your presents. I have one left for you. And if you can figure out how to break the seal on that bubble without dropping what's inside in ten minutes, you get it. If it takes you longer than ten minutes, it's going to cost you a kiss to get it out of there." He gave her a rather lopsided grin as he delivered his last sentence.
"Why ten minutes?" asked Hermione.
"Figure that's all the time we're going to get before Ron comes barging back in here, fresh from his shower and wearing decent clothes. You're wasting time," he reminded her, pointing at a clock on the wall.
Hermione immediately went into Bookworm-Mode, and did her best to study the hovering sphere from all angles. She tried several Revealing spells, unlocking charms, and everything she could think of short of stabbing at it with the end of her wand. She had even considered that for a brief moment with the idea of placing a Cushioning Charm underneath the bubble, but she didn't want to risk it. It seemed too easy.
At seven and a half minutes, she caved.
"I give up." Declared Hermione, grumbling to herself as she settled on the mattress and glared at the silvery orb. "I admit defeat. I, Hermione Granger, can not figure out your puzzle."
Harry grinned at her, and then rearranged his features into a mock pout. "It was far simpler than you thought," he admitted, joining her on the bed. "I was actually hoping you'd just give up thirty seconds in so I could spend the next nine and a half snogging you."
"That's it?" Hermione asked. "All I had to do was kiss you?"
He nodded, and barely managed to catch his breath before the brunette witch had insinuated herself in his lap and planted her lips on his in a searing kiss.
The surface of the bubble broke, and the box within remained suspended as they continued their kiss. Seconds later, Hermione broke away and reached out to snap up the small box.
"What is it?" she asked excitedly.
"Oi, you two, where've you gone off to? You'd better not be in there snogging each other senseless, we have to go to breakfast!" declared Ron from outside the door.
Harry shook his head, tapped his wand on the lid of the box, and smiled. "You have your present. You can open it after Ron leaves us alone for a bit longer."
Hermione tried to open it anyway, but found that she couldn't. Harry had used a non-verbal locking charm she wasn't aware of, so she sighed, pocketed the box, and joined her boys for breakfast in the Great Hall.
Throughout the meal, Hermione continued to attempt unlocking the small box. Ron was too busy stuffing his face to notice Harry chuckling at his frustrated girlfriend. She had tried every spell she could think of before she finally resorted to resting the edge of the lid against the table and slamming her palm on the lid. It reminded Harry of the way an American would open a beer bottle if they didn't have an opener, and he nearly snorted his pumpkin juice out of his nostrils at her futile attempt.
"Whuzzat?" asked Ron, finally taking note of Hermione's angry outburst. He stared at the box as it rested next to Hermione's plate.
She crossed her arms and huffed as she glared first at Harry, and then at the box. "It's a blasted nightmare, that's what it is. It's supposed to be my Christmas present but Harry's locked it and he won't tell me how to open it."
The box quivered as Hermione finished speaking. She shot a confused look at Harry.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly," he mimicked her, "did you try just telling it what you want it to do?" He snatched the box from in front of her, tapped his wand on it and said "Open."
The box vibrated again, and the lid glowed a faint orange. Ron handed it back to Hermione.
She smacked Harry on the arm.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, rubbing at the spot where she'd hit him. "It's not my fault you didn't figure it out! You always try the more complicated things. It's just like the packing spell Tonks taught me."
Ignoring his response, Hermione took hold of Harry's hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall, waving goodbye to Ron over her shoulder. They travelled in silence back to their suite, and when they were safely locked inside with another instruction to Ogden to keep Ron out, Hermione held the box out to Harry. "If it's so simple, I'll let you open it."
He smiled and did just that, lifting the lid and pulling another, smaller box from the inside.
"I swear, Harry Potter, if that one requires just as much effort to get it open as the first one did I'll-Harry? What're you…" He had left his comfortable seat on the couch to kneel on the floor facing her, with the biggest grin spread across his face. "Harry, you're not-"
"Proposing?" he grinned. "Naah, I'd rather know that our dear Lord Voldythingy is safely six feet under, pushing up honking daffodils before I make promises like that. But this, this is a promise, Hermione." He flipped the lid of the smaller box to reveal a thin platinum band with three sparkling stones on it. It was an anniversary style band, with a golden stone on the left, a clear one in the centre, and a scarlet one on the right. "Now I know I'm no romantic, and I swear you're going to laugh at me when I tell you this, but remember when we were in Gringotts after you got me from the Dursleys? And how I took a few things from the crate we found my mum and dad's rings in? Well, this was one of them. I didn't realize it at the time, but I'd grabbed a few rings and necklaces that must've been Mum's. I was going through them a few weeks ago, and then an idea hit me. I know that you don't really agree with Parvati and Lavender's opinion on, well, nearly everything, but I asked for their help in this. I showed them everything I took, and asked them to help me pick something."
"You're joking, said Hermione in a whisper. "They managed to keep it a secret?"
"I think they were afraid of what I'd do to them if they didn't," chuckled Harry. "In the end they narrowed it down to three things, and I picked this. Lavender explained the significance of the ring, and I thought it was perfect. Not to mention the colour of the stones are a perfect match. The left one's topaz, or according to what Lavender told me, a stone representing autumn. Since your birthday is in September, it seemed to fit. The right one is a ruby, which again, according to Lavender, is associated with the heart. And the centre is obviously a diamond. Lavender started going on about them, but even in my limited experience, I know what a diamond is."
Hermione was desperately trying to keep her emotions in check.
"The topaz for me represents our past. In history, topaz has been a symbol of protection for the Egyptians, and the Greeks believed it could increase strength and make the wearer invisible in emergencies. That's you, Hermione. Ever since I met you, you've protected me, given me strength, and helped me out when I needed it most." He took her right hand in his, and squeezed tightly.
She dipped her head to kiss him, but he pulled away before it could become more than a light brush of their lips.
"Rubies represent love, passion, and power," continued Harry, "It also symbolizes powerful feelings, and represents our present together. We're in love, incredibly passionate, and our feelings are definitely powerful. We're both coming into more power now than ever before, and, well... it just makes sense. It's my birthstone too, so two of the three stones represent us in some way."
"And the diamond?" asked Hermione.
Harry smiled. "I would've thought that one was obvious. Diamond is from a Greek word that means invincible. That's what we are together. It represents our future. And my promise." He splayed the fingers of her right hand between his left, and slid the ring onto her third finger.
Dabbing at her eyes, which were quickly growing damp, Hermione whispered, "And what's your promise, Mr. Potter?"
"That one day, I'm going to make you Mrs. Potter." He said huskily, rising on his knees to kiss her. "I promise that, after Voldemort is dead and gone, you'll get a proper proposal with a proper ring and everything. In the meantime, just know that when I say I'll love you forever, I mean it."
With that, Hermione kissed him furiously and led him to her bedroom, her ring glinting in the late morning light.
<><><><><>
The rest of the Christmas break passed uneventfully, their many hours of research in the library turning up nothing. Any item that had once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw was either lost or destroyed. Hermione had even gone so far as to check into Hepzibah Smith's history, by contacting her remaining family members. A disinherited nephew of hers by the name of Roland had informed Hermione that Ravenclaw was the one Founder that Hepzibah had never been able to find a relic for. He had told her that her quest for the missing antiquity was fruitless, leading to his disinheritance. With that disquieting bit of information, Hermione had thrown herself even harder into her research. Ron and Harry had ended up spending several of their library hours playing Wizards' chess while Hermione pored over obscure tomes in the Restricted section. Occasionally the boys would offer to help her, but she would wave them away and bury her nose further into the pages.
Harry was becoming concerned by the time January came around. Even with classes back in session and her Head Girl duties, Hermione was still managing to spend every waking moment in the library. Often times he would have to force her to eat before she took off to the library, and they hadn't been intimate since the day he'd given her the promise ring. Some times when he came to check on her in the library, he would glance oddly at the book she was reading. Several times he would swear that it was the same book, but when he'd kneel to check or open his mouth to ask her, she'd lecture him for disturbing her and go back to her research.
While Harry understood that discovering the identity of the last Horcrux was imperative, and did not fault her dedication, he was beginning to think she was a woman obsessed. As January became February, they had still not shared a bed, barely a few kisses, and Hermione was becoming less and less responsive. Harry thought that perhaps she had convinced herself that she was failing him by not finding the last Horcrux, and he knew how much she detested failure. When he tried to reassure her that her efforts were appreciated, she had pushed him away rather violently and claimed he was distracting her.
Soon she started to split her time between the library and Dr. Lang's office within the Defense classroom, which had been so strange that even Ron sat up and took notice. He joked to Harry that perhaps she was having an affair with the absurdly behaving teacher, but Harry didn't take it as a joke. Though he knew Hermione and infidelity did not mix, he was suspicious of the time she spent with the Defense professor. She'd often tumble into their common room late at night smelling like a potions classroom, and he was silently thankful that Slughorn had returned for the year rather than Snape. He presumed that she and the doctor were working on some sort of extra credit project with the help of Slughorn, but he didn't understand why she wouldn't talk about any of it.
When Valentine's Day came and went with no indication of recognition from Hermione (and he had been sure she'd want to celebrate), he finally went to visit Madame Pomfrey. He told her of Hermione's strange behaviour, her fanatical dedication to the library and that one particular book, and how he was barely able to get her to eat. Dark circles had begun to appear under her eyes, betraying to Harry the fact that she spent more of her nights reading that book than sleeping.
Madame Pomfrey had offered Harry a lilac-coloured potion in a small vial with the instruction to slip it into her pumpkin juice at dinner. She had reminded him that it was uncommon for her to administer a potion to one student by the hand of another, and that he was to use the potion with the utmost care. Harry couldn't imagine not approaching the situation with caution, and told her so. Madame Pomfrey smiled, and handed him another vial from within the folds of her apron. This one was a pale green, and she pressed it firmly into his palm.
"If you can get her to take the first one without noticing, you can give her this one. The first potion will relax her, quite like a calming draught but with a bit of a sleeping potion mixed in. If she takes it, you can offer her the second one. She trusts you enough to take it, but do so with caution. It will leave her mind open to suggestions, at which point you can suggest that she spend less time overtaxing herself with all this extra work, and more time taking care of herself."
Harry nodded, though he thought the second potion sounded almost like the Imperius curse. "Anything else?"
The Medi-witch nodded, and handed him two small blue pills. "Vitamins. Sounds to me like our Miss Granger could be suffering from malnutrition if she isn't eating well."
Thanking her profusely, Harry headed off to the library to ensure that Hermione was going to meet him in the Great Hall for dinner. He even returned five minutes before dinner was served to escort her there, and with Ron serving as distraction, he slipped the lilac potion into her pumpkin juice.
Hermione pushed her chicken and potatoes around her plate for several minutes before both boys laid into her for not eating.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, it's not healthy the way you're carrying on!" exclaimed Ron, gesturing at her barely-eaten food. "You're like a stick, you are. All pale with bags under your eyes, and you're not looking so good."
Hermione's face fell at Ron's words, and Harry drew her into an embrace. "Though Ron put that rather tactlessly, I'm inclined to agree with him," said Harry, shooting a glare over Hermione's head at his best mate. "You need to eat properly. And sleep. And take care of yourself."
"Time spent eating and sleeping is time not spent finding the last you-know-what." She said cryptically before resigning herself to taking a bite of her chicken. Both Ron and Harry (as Harry had informed him of Madame Pomfrey's instructions) watched as she washed her chicken down with her pumpkin juice. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"Hermione, will you do something for me?" asked Harry, looking into her eyes.
"Anything, Harry," she said, followed by a mouthful of potatoes.
He smiled at her efforts to eat. "I want you to take this potion," he said, holding out the vial of pale green liquid.
She looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"I'm worried about you. It's a vitamin draught Madame Pomfrey gave me," he lied, throwing up every Occlumency shield he could think of to prevent her from reading the truth in his mind.
Hermione shrugged, and took the vial. Ron and Harry watched with baited breath as she downed its contents.
"Hermione," began Ron, filling her plate up for her as she watched him, "I think maybe you should spend less time in the library. You're wasting away in there."
"I agree," said Harry, refilling her pumpkin juice. "Eat up, love. You need to start sleeping more, as well. I'm thinking I'll make sure that you do by joining you in your room every night. Just to make sure."
Ron snorted at that suggestion. Harry glared at him.
Hermione swallowed a few more mouthfuls of food, and looked up at her boys. "Anything else?" she asked.
"Two more things. One, I want you to take these two pills," said Harry, holding out the vitamins. "They're more vitamins, to help you get healthy again. And two, is that book you're spending so much time with the Book of Requirement?"
She nodded after downing a mouthful of juice with the vitamins. "It's the only book in the library with the information I need."
"And what sort of information is that?" asked Ron from behind a turkey leg that he was in the process of demolishing.
"Information on the last Horcrux. Chew your food, Ron," muttered Hermione.
"You've found it?" asked Harry rather excitedly.
"Yes." Whispered Hermione, her eyes downcast.
Both boys were silent, staring at her. She continued to eat, without elaborating on her admission.
"Well?" asked Ron anxiously.
"I'll tell you when it's necessary. Right now, I'm going to bed."
And with that, Hermione stood from the table, and walked briskly from the Great Hall.
"Mental, that one," lamented Ron.
Harry remained silent. Hermione knew what the last Horcrux was. She wasn't telling. She wasn't really sleeping or eating, either, and she was spending an awful lot of time with Dr. Lang. He made a promise to himself that he would find out exactly what was going on by the end of the week, even if he had to go straight to Dr. Lang for the answers.
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